The Coming of the Wolf
by SanSanFan
Summary: All characters based on G.R.R. Martin's Song of Ice and Fire series and its HBO adaptation. WARNING: This piece is erotic in nature and contains graphic sexuality, violence, adult situations and language, and often triggering themes such as physical abuse and non-consensual sex acts. If this is problematic for you, please do not read. Sansa learns to Warg through orgasm.
1. Chapter 1

Sansa did not know how long it had been since she had retired to bed, maybe three hours or four? Though she felt confused and angry when her handmaid roused her from slumber, Sansa was alert enough now as she hurriedly dressed to meet the two waiting Kingsguard at the door. Normally Sansa would have picked out a suitable gown and had her maids prepare her hair before allowing herself to be seen by the king, but the hour was late and the two kingsguard standing at her door were very insistent that she leave with them at once. "Don't worry" Ser Boros had sneered, "your dress wont matter for much tonight".

With her long hair loose about her shoulders and a heavily embroidered velvet dressing down tied over her chemise, Sansa felt vulnerable and ill prepared for the ordeal she knew surely awaited her. She had tried so hard, so very hard to keep Joffrey from noticing her. If she could become invisible, silent, just another face in the throne room, then maybe she could avoid rousing his interest. She remembered how her baby brother Rickon would discard toys that he had suddenly grown bored with."If Joffrey can grow bored of playing with me, he may forget I'm here" Sansa hoped. "At least for awhile, he might leave me in peace".

And for the past three days it seemed as though she may have finally slipped from memory. Not Joffrey, nor the Queen, nor anyone else had sent word for her, and while the constant surveillance of maids and spies ensured that she was never truly alone or free from the scrutiny of the Lannisters, she at least felt as though perhaps her husband-to-be may have found something more diverting than torturing her.

But with every step closer to Joffreys chambers, Sansa knew that her recent respite had been the calm before the storm. Would he tell her of more terrible deeds done against her family? Would her brothers' head be waiting on a table for her, or her mothers? Would he have her burned or whipped or beaten? Maybe he would just kill her and it could all be over with. Sansa tried to be brave when she thought of death, tried to welcome it, but she knew deep down that she was as terrified of dying as she was of living. At least if she could live, survive this all somehow, she might see Winterfell again, see her mother and Rob.

But the only way she would ever survive long enough to see her home or family was to keep Joffrey from noticing her, to keep from displeasing him or rising his ire. She knew how to answer politely, how to control her tongue and tears every time her prince made a jest about beheading her father. But sometimes it wasn't good enough, sometimes Joffrey just wanted to pick pins in her for his own amusement, and this too she must bare.  
The doors opened into Joffreys bed chambers, a massive suit of rooms with a large hearth and a grand bed dressed with furrs and damasks. Inside were Joffrey and Ser Merryn, with the Hound standing against the back wall behind the Prince, and a pale, freckled girl in a loose, pink chemise kneeling before him. The room smelled of smoke and wine, and something else she could not place.

The girl giggled inanely while drinking deeply from a goblet of wine, daring to give Sansa a knowing look while licking her full lips. She had red curls and rather too much rouge, and appeared to be two or three years older than Sansa, who now felt certain the girl was a prostitute in the service of Lord Baelysh. "Come in, my Lady!" Joffrey offered, trailing his fingers absently through the girls hair. "Come meet our new friend Kara, she's from the North too!"  
Sansa could feel her heart drop in her chest. She did not know what exactly Joffrey was doing, but she knew that if it concerned the North, either she, this girl, or more likely both were going to suffer for it. "I am very pleased to meet you, Kara. Welcome to King's Landing" she offered flatly, not wanting to give anything away through the tone of her voice. It was impossible to know what might displease Joffrey.

"No need to be so formal, my lady" Joffrey said, motioning for Sansa to come closer, "you and Kara are going to be great friends, aren't you Kara"? "Oh yes, your majesty!" the whore replied, passing her eyes lazily over Sansa's form "Very good friends!"

"You see sweetling, I heard one of my guards today make a jape about the sorts of noises Northern girls make when you fuck them. Apparently you all howl like wolves! Do you howl, Kara?" Joffrey asked, to which the tipsy and oblivious harlot made a howling noise that sounded more like a pouting whimper. "Oh you can do better than that! Surely! And you, Sansa...will you howl when I fuck you?"

Sansa blushed furiously and kept her eyes firmly on the floor in front of her. "No, your grace, I do not think that I would howl like a wolf, if that would displease you, your grace". "Do not presume to know what will and will not displease me. Your JOB is to please me!" With that, Joffrey exchanged looks with Ser Merryn, who walked towards Sansa and lead her by the arm towards the bed. Frozen with fear, she shuddered as the rough hands of the Kingsguard knight removed her robe and unlaced her sleeping chemise.

"Mother says that you are to come to me a virgin, untouched and pure. But you aren't, are you? Pure? You are a dirty, filthy traitor! And I can use you any way I like! As long as your precious flower stays untouched, I can do whatever I want to you, and you will do everything I command!"

Sansa was now standing near the edge of the bed, naked and shivering, trying to make herself as small as she could. She just wanted to disappear, to become invisible. She opened her eyes and they met for only a brief second with those of the Hound. He looked pained, anguished, but Sansa knew that this was likely boredom. Impossible to think that the Hound cared one way or the other what happened to her, that he might be the friend she so desperately needed. Ser Merryn looked exultant, delighted to witness the debasement of this highborn girl who dared dream about love and gallant knights and gentle princes. And Joffrey, who had stood up and was now leading Kara the whore towards the bed by a silk scarf, radiated a new sort of hungry madness, verging on violence.  
"Kara, do you find my lady beautiful?" Joffrey asked, never taking his cruel gaze from Sansa. "Yes, m'lord, very beautiful!" Salla replied coyly, giggling and biting her lower lip becomingly. "Kiss her breasts" Joffery ordered with some uncertainty, and returned to her seat to watch.

Sansa closed her eyes tight as she felt Kara's lips make contact. The first few touches were cautious, exploratory, but soon the whore's tongue ventured out to prod at Sansa's nipple. Sansa was rigid with fear, silent tears ran down her cheeks. Her fingernails drew blood as they crushed into her tightly clenched fists. Never the less, a small thrill ran its way through her as her nipple hardened under Kara's care. That made Sansa feel even worse, and she let a small sob escape her lips.

"Stop this, stop this at once!" Joffrey bellowed. Sansa could now hear the wine in his throat. The young King was quite drunk indeed. "Does this not please you, Lady Sansa?" Joffrey asked with mock concern. "No your grace, it does not. May I please be excused?" Sansa pleaded, hoping that her lack of participation bored him more than it angered him.

"My lady was not pleased! She certainly didn't howl! How do you explain this, Kara?" For the first time Sansa saw that Kara was aware of the dangerous situation she now found herself in. "Pardon, your grace, perhaps you would get more enjoyment from me than your lady does?"

"Perhaps she's right!" Joffrey exclaimed, jumping to his feet. "Ser Merryn, cut the whore's throat. See if she howls then!"

"No, your grace!" the terrified whore screamed, trying to back into the corner behind Sansa. Sansa knew now what Joffrey was playing at. If she did not play along with his horrid games, others would die. Others would die because of her. Kara wept behind her, pleading, insisting that she had a little brother with a bad leg, she needed to look after him, she would do anything they wanted if only they would let her go.

"P..please, your Grace. I would like her to continue." Sansa said, giving the King as direct a look as she had the nerve to. "M..may I kiss her breasts as well?"

Joffrey stepped back, curious amusement spreading a smirk across his face. "So my little wolf slut wants to play after all? Very well. But remember who you should be pleasing".

Trembling and nauseous from fear, Sansa held her hand out to Kara, who was wet faced and sobbing in the corner. She looked imploringly into Sansa's eyes, silently begging her to forgive her for the violation they were both about to endure, to act her part in this cruel farce, and to keep them both alive. Sansa pulled the girl into a close embrace, and awkwardly ran her fingers along the curve of her ass. "Just follow my lead and act like you like it" Kara quickly whispered into Sansa's ear before unlocking their arms and leading her onto the royal bed.

Kara kissed Sansa neck, rubbing her thrumb over the still erect bud of Sansa's nipple. The two girls were kneeling up, facing each other, their bellies and breasts almost against each other. Kara's mouth moved northward towards Sansa's, and too soon Sansa felt the girl's tongue enter through her lips. In her surprise she stiffened and moved away slightly, but knowing that a lack of enthusiasm might cost her and this strange girl their lives, she began to return the kiss and move her body closer to Kara's own. They kept the kiss going as their hands stroked and caressed each other, and there was something, some warmth in Kara's kiss that comforted her greatly. She was afraid, as afraid as she had ever been, but with this strangers lips on her own, their skin against her skin, she didn't feel alone anymore. If she could keep her eyes closed and try to imagine that Joffrey wasn't there, that Ser Merryn and the Hound weren't there, she would have felt so happy just to have this closeness, this comfort, this warmth, no matter the way it was delivered.

Kara broke off the kiss suddenly, and softly pushed Sansa onto her back. She gave rapid, furious little kisses to Sansa's nipples and belly, moving down her body to her thighs, which she bit at playfully. Sansa kept her eyes closed and tried to only think of Kara, of what was happening to her body. It felt wonderful, like nothing she had ever felt before. She knew that some girls kissed and slept with girls, and had once almost had a similar experience with Jeyne Poole. But those kisses were clumsy attempts at imitating the courtly love from the songs and stories she had grown up with. The brave knight kissing the maiden fair. Those were the kisses between a man and a woman, a made-up man and woman no less. Theses were the kisses between two girls, two girls who were trapped together in fear and powerlessness, and who could only offer each other the consolation of their lips and the comfort of their arms.

Soon Kara's mouth found its way between Sansa's legs, and that instinct to cover herself and ball up in terror crept into her flesh again. But she quickly dismissed it, awed by the sensation Kara's kisses caused. Her maidenhead became hot, she could feel the warmth there against her thighs, and the wetness inside her seemed like the juice of a berry about to burst. When Kara's tongue moved upwards along her slit, a small explosion of warmth would wash over her, each explosion causing a ripple along her writhing body. Soon, the waves of pleasure were crashing one atop the other, and Sansa was aware neither of those onlookers, the Hound, Joffrey, Ser Merryn, nor even of Kara, the stranger between her thighs.

In that moment, that exquisite moment, Sansa was free. She was strong, and brave, and she was not alone. She ran in the fields with her brothers and sisters, the scent of meat and the cold, good night air filled their nostrils. Her coat was grey and thick, and she was so much bigger than her brothers and sisters. She looked through yellow eyes and saw the moon, huge and white, filtering through the branches of a weirwood. She was near a river, with water so cold it froze in places, and in the distance she caught the scent of smoke. Homes had burned, cattle burned, and corpses rotted on the ground where they fell. The smell of blood and fire filled her senses, and she felt the pads of her feet hit the ground hard as she ran from the scent of death.

With a sudden, violent tremor, Sansa reentered her body to find it arched in pleasure, her maidenhood twitching and shivering as her flesh tingled with the warmth of her first orgasm. Amid the dizzying confusion of her emotions, Sansa was horrified to find herself mid howl. The flush of warmth covering her quickly turned to ice water as she remembered the, the...whatever that was. The vision? She had seen through the eyes of a wolf, a direwolf, and she had smelled death and fire and rot. A battle had taken place, men had died. But why would she think of that, why then? What had just happened to her?

So overcome by the conflicting sensations riding over her, Sansa Stark had not yet taken notice of the actions of her audience. Joffrey was reeling with mad laughter, a violent excitement in his eyes. Ser Merryn's undisguised lust contorted his face into something savage and primitive. He had enjoyed this almost as much as the King. But the Hound, though his member strained against his leather breaches in a way that was difficult to ignore, continued to look anguished, and perhaps also confused. He did not look directly at Sansa's prone and still shivering form as the other two did, and indeed it seemed like he would rather not look at all.

Kara looked up along the length of Sansa's stomach and gave her a very genuine smile. There was warmth in that smile, and something like love. Then her eyes turned wide and serious, and with something like regret in her voice Kara whispered to Sansa. "His name, m'lady, is Corben. He's at the Stewer's Pot Inn. Please, m'lady, take care of him!"

Just then Ser Merryn grabbed Kara's shoulder roughly and dragged her before the king. "You've done well, whore. You made my lady howl. You made her scream! But now, I think it's time to see how loudly you scream". Joffrey kicked the nude young woman in her stomach, causing her to drop to the floor convulsing and vomiting. "Ser Merryn, take the whore to the tower and tie her to the board. Hound, you are to stay in Lady Sansa's chambers with her tonight, to ensure she does not spread any lies to her hand maidens. And I mean it, Dog, you are not to let her out of your sight".

Ser Merryn hoisted the limp girl over his shoulder and exited the room with the King close behind him. That left Sansa alone with Sandor Clegane, the King's sworn shield. She was still shaking and naked, alone on the bed with her knees pulled tight to her chest, crying. Clegane walked to the bedside and wrapped his cape around her, scooping her up into his arms as though she weighed less than a cushion. Sansa was too tired, too drained, to resist. She felt her head fall against his chest, which rose and fell as he carried her back to her rooms. Almost absently she met his gaze and asked him "Will Joffrey kill her?" "Yes, little bird, and quickly if she's lucky. Now that the King knows he can play this game with you, he'll do it again. As often as he can get away with. And if you're smart, you'll learn to moan and cry out and give him the show he wants whenever he wants it, without letting him see you warging"

Sansa was shocked. Firstly, the certainty with which the hound spoke left little doubt that Kara was likely dead, and that the scene she had been a part of tonight would happen again and again. But she was also taken aback by Clegane's last comment. "What did you mean, "see me warging?"

"You grew up in the north and don't know what a Warg is?" Sandor asked "What a pretty fool you are. A Warg is a man, or a girl might be, that can leave their body and go inside the bodies of animals. See through their eyes. North of the Wall they say there are countless Wargs. I met one during the Greyjoy Rebellion, could enter the head of sharks and fish. Didn't protect him from my sword eating through his middle though".

By that time they had reached Sansa's rooms, and the Hound had just sat her down upon a cushion. A serving girl appeared with a glass of honeymilk, and The Hound quickly ordered a hot bath be drawn for the lady, and that all handmaidens and serving girls were to be dismissed as soon as it was done. The bath arriving, He barred all the doors to Sansa's bed chamber and took up a position by the entrance that kept Sansa and her bath at his back.  
Sansa walked to the bath and let Clegane's cloak fall off her shoulders. She felt empty. Like there was nothing inside of her anymore. She knew her heart broke for the fate of Kara, and that it broke for her own innocence and virtue. She could no longer call herself a maiden, not really, even though her maidenhead was intact. While she did not blame Kara, and in fact loved Kara in some way for the tenderness she had offered, she felt deeply violated. Raped. Soiled. She was worthless now, and would become more and more sullied and used with each time Joffrey decided to torture her like this. She had dreamed of marrying a Prince and of the sweetness of their first kiss. Her own stupidity and hopes and dreams gauled her, and as she soaked and scrubbed furiously in the tub of scalding water, she began to weep.

After a few minutes Clegane's voice broke the silence, "Are you weeping for her, or for you?". Sansa didn't answer. "Whores know the risks of what they're doing. They go out every night hoping that cocks are the only things that stab them. That one? She was dead the moment Littlefinger selected her. She knew that too in the end. But she knew she could save you. Give you a chance. You have that chance now, little bird, you shouldn't waste it grieving for the fairytale first kiss you're never going to have. Be thankful for all the kisses you'll have the chance to have because of her.

But Sansa knew that the next lips she's iss would be those of another terrified girl, and another, and another, and that her kiss would be the last they'd ever feel again.


	2. Chapter 2

Sansa knew she was in her own bed. She could smell the pressed flowers kept under the pillow, and her fingers twisted the familiar loose threads of her coverlet as she always did before waking fully. But even though she kept her eyes shut and prayed to return to her dreamless slumber, all too soon she was aware of the world, and how it had changed since she last rested here. The aces, noises and sensations of last night flooded her mind, and as if to escape them she jumped up from her bed and rushed to the window of her chamber.

The Hound was nowhere to be seen, but when she tried the door it was predictably bolted from the outside. "I am a prisoner now, fully" she thought, "I do not even have the illusion of freedom anymore". Just then a side door creaked open and in walked two strange women, neither her own handmaids nor any of the Lannister informants she had become accustomed to. They were not young, and not of noble birth, and seemed more like fishwives or kitchen workers than ladies' maids. The hard glint of their eyes and the weathered lines of their faces left no room for sympathy or compassion, and Sansa knew they were not truly her maids, but her guards and jailors.

She let them dress her and prepare her hair, which was done in grim silence, and once they were done their work she asked if she would be allowed to leave her rooms or walk the gardens. They gave no reply, but the taller or the two let a dismissive laugh hiss through her lips before they both turned to exit as they had entered. Hearing the lock fastening behind them, Sansa knew escape was hopeless.

Sitting by the window, she tried to focus not on Kara's face, or on Joffrey, or on the leering knights who had watched her humiliation with such joy. Instead, she turned her mind to the brief liberation she'd known as she padded, strong and wild, through the darkened woods alongside her pack. She had felt powerful, she had felt in control. The steel of her jaws could rip Joffrey's heart out, her shape claws could remove that smile from his hateful little face forever!

"Warg" she said to herself. The word was not unknown to her. Old Nan told many stories of Wargs, she Sansa had never cared for those stories. Horrible wildlings running around inside the bodies of animals who might come in the night to eat you up! No, she had wanted stories of beautiful princesses in flowing gowns who married strong, goodhearted knights! She almost laughed at her own folly, she if she permitted herself laughter she knew tears would soon follow, and she did not want to cry right now.

No, right now she wanted to run, as fast and far as four strong legs could take her. She wanted to submerge her face in icey creeks and crunch still-living salmon between her teeth. She closed her eyes and tried to think wolf thoughts, feel wolf feelings, but nothing happened. She lay down on her bed to relax her body and focus her mind, but it did not help. In desperation, she brought the skirts of her gown up around her knees and spread her legs just far enough apart that she might place her hand there.

Sansa was not familiar with her own anatomy, or anyone elses for that matter. She knew that the cleft between her legs was meant to receive a man's member, and after that, to birth his children. But when Kara kissed her there, the pleasure had made her weak, and for one brief wonderful moment, it had let her leave her body. Shyly and with inexpert fingers, Sansa explored herself and tried to find the secret to this sensation and the magic it cast.  
For ten minutes she fumbled with herself, poking and rubbing. While some of it was nice, mostly she just felt wildly uncomfortable and frequently in pain. Whatever secret Kara know, it escaped Sansa, who rolled over onto her side to weep silently into her pillow.

Just then she heard the main door clatter open as a hooded figure stepped into her chamber. Behind him stood two kingsguard who waited dutifully outside as the hooded figure closed the doors behind himself. At once she recognized the Mockingbird pin at his throat and rose to her feet to greet him. "Lord Baelysh" she exclaimed "what are you doing here? Have you come to help me?"

"Lady Sansa" the slight man curtsied and took her hand in his "I am always here to help you, always believe that". He brought her hand up to his lips, and much to her horror he inhaled deeply as he caught the scent of her womanhood on her fingers. "I am not interrupting your...rest, I trust?"

"No Lord Baelysh, but please, something terrible has happened! Last night Joffrey...hurt me" Sansa said haltingly as tears rose to her eyes unbidden. And another girl, a girl who...who worked for you...Kara. I think Joffrey may have killed her! Please, I need to leave this place, I need to get away from Kings Landing, I don't care where!"

Petyr Baelysh petted Sansa's hand, which still remained clutched in his, and flashed her a look of genuine empathy. "You poor, sweet child, the things you have endured! You are strong, Sansa, but you must be smart as well. I know what the young King wants, and what he is planning. I know everything that happened last night". Sansa's heart sank. "Everything?" she asked him. "Yes my child, but you must remember that you will remain safe, alive, and a maid only as long as Joffrey is kept amused by your suffering, and the suffering of others. Now, I am working on a plan that will let you escape the capitol before he bores of these games, before you have been exposed to too much. Please believe me, Sansa, I am your friend and I will rescue you, but before that can happen you must be strong, and smart, and give the King what he wants".

"I can't" Sansa's voice broke into a sob "They killed her! They made her violate me, and then they killed her! And they'll do it again, and again, and I just want to die!

Littlefinger held her against his narrow chest now, letting her tears fall on his costly brocades and jewelled tunic. "Do you know what I do, Sansa, other than manage the wealth of the realm?" "I believe so" Sansa replied, blushing. "You own brothels, you employ... prostitutes". "Yes" Littlefinger replied, "but more than that I sell illusion. Men would not pay the coin I demand simply to rut, no, they pay for the illusion that they are sharing a bed with a willing, enthusiastic woman. They pay for lies and fantasies. My girls are more accomplished actors than any theatre troop in the free cities could ever boast. And you, sweet girl, must learn to out preform even my experts. When Joffrey wants fear from you, you must give him fear. Not the real fear I see in your eyes even now, but the sweet, tantalizing fear he is hungry for. And when he wants lust...you must learn to give him that too".

"I'm so scared, and I hate it here so much and I just want this all to end!" Sansa cried "I know, sweetling, and I will take you far, far away from here and keep you safe with me. But before that can happen, you must be brave, and you must survive!"

The Master of Coin rose to leave, kissing her hand again for a few moments longer than was courteous. "In the meantime, I will find ways to communicate with you, to help you as I can".  
"There is something I want you to do for me, Lord Baelysh. Kara had a brother, Corben, please...make sure he is safe?"

With practised sincerity, Littlefinger bowed deeply and vowed to find the boy and make sure he was looked after. He took his leave and Sansa was once again alone, locked in her rooms, dreading the setting sun and the terrors the night would bring.


End file.
